


pretty girl

by parkerprotectionprogram



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Again, F/M, i was stressed, tbh this was a fic for another character but oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 05:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16847767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkerprotectionprogram/pseuds/parkerprotectionprogram
Summary: there’s a sunrise and there’s a confession





	pretty girl

**Author's Note:**

> rough weeks call for stress writing so this may be incoherent, something i’ve been for the past few days so yeah this was lowkey (like so lowkey it was subconscious) inspired by the song technicolor beat by oh wonder (i was listening to them while writing this, which might explain it.

He’s not quite perfect, not all there but then again, you suppose you’re not quite all there either. You don’t mean to demean the seriousness of such an issue. The two of you are incredibly flawed and jagged, having been through far too much turmoil to ever fully be okay, but staring at his sleeping form, you find solace in the fact that he’s  _yours_. His eyelashes cast a shadow on his cheekbones in the flickering candlelight, dark hair stark against ivory skin. His features are soft and relaxed, so different from the severe expression that now usually mars his face during the day.

The crack in the heavy curtains allows you the most wonderful view of the sky over his shoulder, the burnt oranges and reds slowly bleeding into the sky as the sun begins to rise. Your hand stays in his, as it always has been during the nights, while your gaze is fixed firmly on the sunrise. The air is far too cold to consider getting up yet, nipping at your cheeks and nose while the warmth he radiates compels you to stay in bed just a little longer, gravitating closer until you’re tucked into his side.

You crack a small smile when his eyelids flutter open blearily, blinking once, twice and then again to wake himself up. A superhero, he looks more like a boy than ever in this moment, disoriented and hair mussed, eyes blurry with sleep. It reminds you of how terrifyingly young the two of you are, only kids, yet faced with responsibility you doubt you can handle.

He hums, a low sound in his throat that sounds content. Stretching his arms, he slips one over your waist and tugs you closer. You don’t protest, cudding into him and savouring the warmth.

“Morning,” he murmurs and staring at him, disheveled and the smattering of freckles across his cheeks, you feel a rush of heat to your cheeks as you smile bashfully at him. You don’t know why you’re suddenly shy around him, but you find it unfair, the effect he has on you.

“Hi,” you whisper, biting your lip to contain the smile. He chuckles and raises one hand to brush gently against your cheek.

“What are you doing, pretty girl?” he asks, amused. You laugh quietly, ducking your head to hide your face in the pillow. You get a few strands of hair in your face uncomfortably, but ignore it in favour of feeling his fingers make their way over your hair, settling on the back of your neck.

You sigh contentedly, taking a moment to truly take in the feeling of the cool sheets under your arms and the warmth of his breath on your neck which is oddly comforting, as opposed to any sort of contact with your neck as you are. When you raise your head, he’s looking at you with an intensity in those onyx eyes that leaves you a little breathless.

“You wanna know something?” you say, raising a hand between the two of you to rest it on his jaw. He shuts his eyes and hums affirmatively, prompting a slightly dreamy sigh out of you.

“I think,” you whisper tentatively, summoning all of your courage, “I think I might just be in love with you, Peter Parker.”

He opens his eyes at that and his lips curve upwards, eyes crinkling at the corners. The hand on your waist rubs your side soothingly as he leans in closer until he’s nose to nose with you and you’re forced to keep his gaze.

“Yeah?”

You give him a small shy smile. “Yeah,” you admit.

“I think I might just be in love with you too, pretty girl.”

You feel your heart soar and conclude that it’s unlikely you’ll ever be this happy, love in your arms and sun in your eyes. In the 5 am light, you couldn’t feel any safer.


End file.
